


I'm Dreaming Tonight of a Place I Love

by whispered_story



Series: Carve Your Name Into My Skin [6]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurities, M/M, Mob Boss Jensen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-25 00:15:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17110811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whispered_story/pseuds/whispered_story
Summary: Jared just wants their first Christmas together as a married couple to be perfect.





	I'm Dreaming Tonight of a Place I Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little Christmas interlude wherein Jared and Jensen are already married.
> 
> Betaed by [Dancing_Adrift](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Adrift/pseuds/Dancing_Adrift)!

They don't put the tree up until three days before Christmas Eve. They've both been busy, Jensen with his ever expanding business and Jared with classes and then finals. He's doing pretty well, but the first semester of his M.A. program has still been kicking his ass. But he'd insisted they buy and decorate the tree themselves, something he's never gotten to do before, even as a kid. Finding the time to do it has proven to be difficult, though; something else always seems to come up, either for him or Jensen, but Jared has been determined that they do this and Jensen has gone along with his plan.

So this morning, his finals done, Jared dragged Jensen out of bed early and made him pick out a tree with him. They decorated it with the ornaments he'd carefully picked out weeks earlier, drinking gross-tasting eggnog before switching to whiskey, Christmas music playing in the background.

It's pretty cheesy. Until Jensen turns the lights off, the tree the only thing illuminating their living room, and then drags Jared down onto the rug with him. Jared laughs into the first kiss, but before long he's moaning, clothes stripped off and tossed aside.

Jensen works him open with three lube-slicked fingers, manhandles him onto his hands and knees, and then fucks him hard and fast. Jared is staring at their picture-perfect tree, the rug burning his knees with each of Jensen's thrusts, their moans and grunts drowning out the Christmas songs.

~*~

Jared is a decent enough cook, when he puts his mind to it. He can't do anything too fancy, but he's taught himself the basics since moving out.

It's their first Christmas together as a married couple. Last year had been their very first Christmas together; they'd still been sneaking around and neither of them cared all that much about the holidays. They'd had take-out with Danneel and Chris on Christmas Eve and then he and Jensen had spent Christmas day in bed. It hadn't been a huge affair and Jared had been more than fine with it.

This year, he's gotten it into his head that he wants something different. Wants to make dinner by himself, for just him and Jensen, and have a tree and cookies and the whole shebang. 

So on Christmas Eve, with the apartment alone to himself, he starts prepping dinner in the afternoon. It's nothing too complicated, no big roast dinner or turkey, because he knows he's just going to fuck it up. He's making stuffed chicken breasts instead, with mashed potatoes and string beans, something he figures he can pull off if he follows the recipe.

Jensen knows about his plans and promised to be home for dinner by six. Not without teasing Jared about being a good wife, of course, but Jared had been too excited to care.

He's in a good mood, humming along to the radio as he peels and dices and chops.

That is, until shortly after five when the door to the apartment opens and Jared cranes his head around just as Jensen appears in the hallway a few moments later. The apologetic frown on his face is all Jared needs to know something is up and his good mood evaporates.

"You promised," he says, and he hates how hurt and accusatory he sounds.

"I know," Jensen sighs. "But something came up and I have to go downtown and take care of it. I'll hurry up, though, sweetheart."

"Right," Jared says.

Jensen rounds the counter, stopping in front of Jared. He cups his face with one hand and kisses him softly. Sweetly. "I'll be a little late, baby, but we _will_ have dinner together tonight. Okay?"

Jared takes a deep breath and nods. He leans in, brushes his lips between Jensen's furrowed brows. "Yeah, okay," he murmurs.

"I'm sorry," Jensen apologizes.

"Don't be. I knew what I was getting myself into, didn't I?" Jared keeps his tone light, smiling at Jensen as he shifts back. 

Jensen brushes his thumb over Jared's bottom lip, gaze fixed on Jared for a few moments. He kisses Jared again, hard and firm, and then steps back completely. "I need to get going," he says. 

Jared can only sigh and let him leave.

~*~

Jared meant what he told Jensen. He knew what he was getting into and none of it—not the mob business, Jensen's busy schedule, the fact that he was throwing himself headfirst into the very life he'd tried to escape for so long—was enough to ever give him pause. He's in this 100%, even on the bad days.

That doesn't stop the bitterness, the doubts from creeping in when Jensen isn't home by seven and neither by eight.

Jared pours himself a drink and settles down on the couch eventually, Christmas music playing and the lights of the tree casting a soft glow around the room, mocking him and his grand plans for the night. He should have known better.

Dinner is in the oven in an attempt to keep it warm, the chicken probably completely dry by now, and Jared's stomach is growling, but he refuses to eat without Jensen.

He knows Jensen loves him. Knows Jensen meant it when he promised to be home. But Jared knows he can't really make those kind of promises—he can't always drop everything, can't ignore his responsibilities just to spend time with Jared when he has a city to run. Jensen is married to him, but he's also married to his business and Jared will always have to share him.

He's accepted that. Always has. But sometimes he still worries. Worries that he's just a stupid, blind kid that's fooling himself into thinking his life will be any different from his mother's. That his marriage will be any more successful. He and Jensen might have married for love, but how  can they be so sure they'll always love each other, always be happy, that they'll always make this work?

And what happens if things change? If Jensen gets bored with him, stops at least _trying_ to come home to Jared every night, if his love wanes and they become just as bitter, just as broken as Jared's parents? What if what Jared has to offer Jensen, in the end, isn't enough?

What if Jared is a naïve moron for thinking he could find true happiness?

Jared tips the glass back, downing what's left in one big gulp, and then goes to pour himself another drink.

~*~

It's close to nine by the time Jensen finally comes home, and Jared is feeling the buzz of the drinks he had on an empty stomach. It's just made him feel more and more morose as time dragged on and all he really wants to do at this point is crawl into bed and cancel Christmas.

"I'm so sorry," Jensen says, looking the part. He comes to perch on the coffee table, right in front of Jared. "How mad are you at me, sweetheart?"

Jared shrugs. "Not your fault."

Jensen heaves a sigh and leans forward, taking the glass out of Jared's hand. He puts it down onto the table with a clink and then cups Jared's face in his hands, thumbs pressing gently into his cheeks. "I'm so sorry," he repeats in a murmur, his eyes earnest. "But I let everyone know that unless it's an emergency, I'm not available until after Christmas and Danneel is in charge. So unless someone stages a coup against me or the world is ending, I'm all yours for the next couple of days."

"It's okay. You don't have to, I get it," Jared promises, turning his head to brush his lips against Jensen's hand. Despite everything, he can't be mad at Jensen. He can't expect him to not do his job and run his business, run this city. The only one he's really disappointed in is himself, for expecting too much. For setting himself up for this. 

"I _do_ have to do this," Jensen insists. "Because I want to."

"Yeah?" Jared asks. And he knows this. Knows Jensen wants to be with him. But hearing it still eases some of his worries and doubts.

Jensen smiles softly at him and leans in, kissing Jared. It's slow and languid, the kind of kiss that drags on and makes Jared feel all warm and fuzzy. His breathing is a bit more shallow by the time Jensen slowly pulls away, and Jared feels hot and flushed from both the kiss and the alcohol he's had.

Maybe he shouldn't have had whiskey on an empty stomach after all and he probably needs some food to help soak it up. 

That's when he remembers the dinner in the oven and he sits up a little straighter. "Have you eaten yet?" he asks.

Jensen quirks his lips up into a smile. "No. My husband was cooking dinner for me," he says, and even after half a year, Jensen calling him his husband still makes Jared's stomach flutter and his heart beat faster. "If you left some for me, that is."

"I haven't eaten yet," Jared admits. "I was waiting for you."

"Jared," Jensen says quietly, fondly, and kisses him again.

~*~

The chicken is dry _and_ rubbery after several hours in the oven, and Jared doesn't manage more than a couple of bites before he decides to stick to the mashed potatoes and beans.

Jensen eats the whole thing, with a smile on his face, too, even after Jared tells him he doesn't have to eat the chicken.

"It's fine," Jensen insists, and Jared isn't sure if he's trying to make Jared feel better or punish himself for breaking his promise. He keeps taking a sip of wine after every bite and Jared can't even blame him for having to wash it down. 

"Done?" Jared asks once Jensen's plate is cleaned off.

"Maybe I want more," Jensen replies, and Jared gives him a look, making Jensen laugh quietly. "Okay, no, I don't."

Jared grimaces. "Let's order in tomorrow."

"Let's not open the door for anyone tomorrow," Jensen counters and gets up, starting to clear the table. When Jared makes a move to get up as well, Jensen shakes his head. "Let me."

"Okay," Jared agrees easily. He finishes the glass of water he poured himself—he's not having another drink until later, because the buzz of the whiskey still hasn't worn off and maybe this evening can still be saved. 

Jensen clears everything away and then nods his head in the direction of the living room. "Wanna go get more comfortable?" 

Jared nods. "Let's," he agrees.

He turns off all the lights in the kitchen and above their dining table so the entire floor of the apartment is dark save for the tree once more, and then joins Jensen who's sitting in the armchair, facing the Christmas tree.

"Where am I supposed to sit?" Jared teases.

Jensen arches up one eyebrow and grabs Jared's hand, tugging him towards him and down onto his lap. "Right here, sweetheart," he murmurs.

Jared laughs a little and shifts to get more comfortable, straddling Jensen's thighs and curling his arms around Jensen's neck. Bing Crosby is crooning in the background and Jared finally feels the last of the tension drain from his body.

"Tell me," Jensen murmurs, his voice pitched low, lips twitching up into a smirk. "Have you been a good boy this year?"

The words startle another laugh out of Jared and he shakes his head in amusement. "I've been a bad boy more than a few times," he admits, playing along.

"Hmm, that so?" Jensen asks and winds his arms around Jared's hips, one hand settling on his lower back and the other on his ass. "Usually that would earn you a punishment, sweetheart. But lucky for you, I like bad boys."

"Oh, that's too bad," Jared says.

Jensen squeezes his ass and then pulls him in closer, angling his head up. "Nah, I think you'll like the reward you're getting," he murmurs and brings their mouths together. 

Jared sighs into the kiss, parting his mouth willingly when Jensen's tongue brushes against his lips, and as the kiss deepens, he starts grinding down against Jensen. Their mouths slide together wetly, soft moans mingling with the Christmas music, and Jared feels frantic suddenly. Arousal pools sharp and hot in his belly and he digs his fingers into the back of Jensen's neck, trying to silently spur him on.

"Shhh," Jensen hushes, breaking the kiss and pecking Jared on the lips once, twice, as he slips one hand between their bodies. "I got you, baby."

Jared nods. "Please," he pleads, and Jensen is already working his jeans open, popping the button and dragging the zipper down. 

"Relax," Jensen whispers and brings their lips back together in another kiss just as he sneaks his hand around Jared again and slips it down the back of his pants. Jared wants to laugh, because there's no way he's relaxing when Jensen is touching him, but it comes out as a garbled gasp instead as Jensen presses two fingers down between his cheeks. The touch makes pleasure spark through Jared, muscles clenching up when Jensen brushes the tips of his fingers over his hole before relaxing again. He rocks his hips back, seeking more, and Jensen rubs over his rim more firmly, the dry drag of his fingers driving Jared crazy. 

"Jen," Jared gasps, head falling back, wrenching his mouth from Jensen's.

Jensen follows, his lips finding Jared's neck, sucking and biting at the skin. He crooks one finger, pushing into Jared just the tiniest bit and Jared cries out quietly, the sound broken and breathless.

"More," he begs, squirming on top of Jensen, trying to get his finger deeper inside. He makes a noise of protest though when Jensen's fingers disappear and Jensen extracts his hand from his pants. " _Jensen_."

"Shhh, here," Jensen says and brings his hand up, resting his fingers against Jared's lips. "Get them wet for me, baby."

He nudges Jared's mouth and Jared opens obediently, sighing when Jensen's fingers slip in. He closes his lips around them, sucking eagerly and swirling his tongue around the digits to get them all slick with spit.

"Fuck," Jensen groans and Jared moans throatily, blinking down at Jensen. He feels flushed all over, too warm, arousal making him feel hot and giddy, like he's flying apart.

"God, that fucking mouth of yours," Jensen says and Jared sucks a little harder, his eyes falling half-shut. 

Jensen taps the corner of Jared's mouth with his thumb and Jared runs his tongue over Jensen's fingers once more before he stops sucking and Jensen pulls them free wordlessly.

"Please," Jared says feverishly. He shuffles forward, trying to close what little distance there is between them, and takes Jensen's face between his hands. His heart is thumping wildly in anticipation and he crashes their mouths back together, groaning deeply when Jensen slips his now slick fingers back between his cheeks again. 

His free hand clamps down on Jared's hip, stopping him from moving, and he bites down on Jared's bottom lip—hard enough to sting but not hard enough to hurt—and presses one finger deep into Jared at the same time. For a moment, it's like everything stops, the different sensations making the breath catch in Jared's throat, and then his brain cells come back alive, firing all at once, and he keens. Jensen licks away the sting in his lip soothingly.

"Breathe, baby," he whispers and moves his finger inside of Jared. He pulls out and thrusts back in, aiming right for Jared's prostate this time. He brushes against it and Jared's head falls forward onto Jensen's shoulder with a whimper. 

"Fuck, Jensen," he slurs. "More. Please. Give me another."

Jensen turns his head, nips at Jared's neck and then kisses the place where it curves into his shoulder, his finger dragging against Jared's prostate once, twice more, making Jared gasp wetly. His cock, trapped in his boxers and pressed against Jensen's stomach, is achingly hard and he can feel the precome getting the fabric all damp and sticky, and he thinks he's going to burst, to cry, if Jensen doesn't stop teasing him soon. 

Jensen trails more kisses over his neck and when he pulls his finger out this time, he pulls it out completely. With both fingers now, he circles Jared's rim, presses against it, and then sinks both of them into Jared.

"Jensen," Jared moans, arching his back and gripping Jensen's shoulders. It feels deliciously good, the spit just enough to ease the way, but not enough to stop it from burning a little. 

Jensen lets go of his hip then, smooths his hand down his thigh, and the moment Jared is free to move he rocks back, trying to take Jensen in deeper.

"Yeah, sweetheart," Jensen encourages quietly, twisting his fingers inside of Jared. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, baby, show me how much you like this."

Jared can only make an unintelligible noise in reply, grinding down onto Jensen. He feels mindless with pleasure now, the way Jensen thrusts and curls his fingers inside of Jared not following any pattern, making him squirm and gasp. 

"Can you come like this, baby?" Jensen asks, almost sweetly.

He _knows_ Jared can. Knows Jared loves nothing more than having his ass played with, can get off from just Jensen's fingers or tongue as much as his cock. And he's not teasing anymore, fucking his fingers in and out, finding Jared's prostate every time he pushes deep into him. It feels like it goes on forever and yet is over with in seconds, the pleasure building, coiling tightly inside Jared's belly before his orgasm crashes through him. 

Jared comes with a breathless cry, shuddering in Jensen's lap. Jensen wraps his free hand more securely around his waist, holds him tight against him, and he's still moving inside of Jared, more slowly now, teasing Jared through his orgasm until the pleasure gets so sharp it's almost painful, the stimulation too much, too soon. 

Jensen stops then, pulls free, and gathers Jared in both arms, shifting him around to rest more firmly against his chest. Jared sucks in a shuddering breath. He's sweaty and trembling and when he turns his head on Jensen's shoulder, he realizes his cheeks are wet with tears. 

"Jensen," he mumbles, feeling utterly overwhelmed suddenly.

"I know," Jensen soothes and kisses his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. "I love you so much, Jared."

Jared sniffs, then laughs quietly. "I think you broke me."

"Guess that means I gotta keep you, huh?" Jensen asks and moves his lips lower, licking and nibbling at Jared's neck. 

"Yeah," Jared says and lifts his head, smiling when Jensen drags him straight into a kiss.

~*~

Jared is woken up by a hand on his cock and rain splattering loudly against the windows. A quiet moan breaks from his mouth and he squirms.

The hand on his dick stops moving, vanishes, and Jared blinks his eyes open tiredly, squinting at Jensen. 

"Mmm," he mumbles, his mouth dry. Jensen laughs and looking at him makes Jared's stomach flutter. 

Jensen's hair is a mess and there's a pillow crease on his cheek, his skin pale with sleep. He looks years younger, softer, lacking the severity and hardness he wears like an armor around other people. Here, in bed, he's not Jensen Ackles, the mob boss. He's just Jensen, Jared's husband, and it makes Jared feel all warm and happy. 

"Good morning," Jensen says, tugging the sheets higher, all the way up to their necks.

Jared shifts onto his side and cuddles closer, seeking more of Jensen's heat and that sleepy-soft skin. He's fully hard, but the arousal is more like a soft hum than an overwhelming need. Nothing like last night.

And god, _last night_. Jared isn't even sure when they finally went to sleep, but it must have been closer to early morning. They'd fucked on the couch, Jensen pinning him down and making him come again on just his cock this time, and then they'd had more whiskey—too much whiskey—before they'd moved on to the bed. They'd both been pretty drunk by then and the third round had been kinda sloppy.

The last thing Jared remembers is Jensen murmuring more apologies into the skin of his shoulder and something about just shooting everyone next time they try to keep him away from Jared. 

It hadn't been the Christmas Eve Jared had envisioned, but it hadn't been horrible either. He still needs to learn how to expect less, he thinks, even though that's something life with his father should have taught him years ago.

"Jared," Jensen says, startling him out of his thoughts. He smiles at him, cards Jared's—no doubt disastrous—hair back. "You okay? How's your head?"

Jared thinks about it for a second and then wrinkles his nose. "Okay," he admits. He's not feeling great, but certainly not bad either. It helps that the whiskey Jensen likes to stock up on is ridiculously expensive.

Jensen leans in, noses his jaw, brushing his lips over it. "Good. So how do you want to start off Christmas morning then?" he asks in a murmur. "Coffee? Presents? Or do you want me to suck that beautiful dick of yours, sweetheart?"

Under the sheets, his hand finds Jared's hip, palming it. Jared sighs. "Don't," he whispers.

Jensen stills and then draws back. "Don't what?" he asks, his tone blank, lips turned up into a smile that holds no warmth. He's pretending nothing is going on, like Jared can't see right past it.

"This," Jared says, waving a hand tangled in the sheets between them. "Stop feeling guilty for last night. Stop trying to make up for it by giving me whatever I ask for."

Jensen's smile turns even less real. Jared can see he's trying to put walls up and he hates it. 

"Don't I always give you what you ask for?" Jensen asks.

Jared huffs. "Most of the time what I ask for is _exactly_ what you want anyway, so I don't know how to answer that," he says. "Jensen, you don't need to... to _atone_."

"I broke my promise," Jensen says, his voice harsh, and Jared knows the only person Jensen is mad at is himself. And that's something _Jared_ is to blame for, because he's the one who got all upset last night.

"We both should have known something might come up," Jared admits and sighs. "Jensen, _I'm_ sorry."

"What are you sorry for, sweetheart, huh?"

Jared flips over onto his back and then sits up, feeling too warm under the sheets all of a sudden. He runs a hand over his face and then looks down at Jensen's face, a frown marring his perfect features.

"I tried to make Christmas into this... this perfect thing. I don't even know why I thought that was so important," he confesses. "And I'm sorry for putting that pressure on you when I should have known it might very well not work out the way I wanted it to. And I'm sorry about how upset I got about it. And I'm _really_ sorry for how much I doubted you last night. Doubted _us_."

There's a moment of silence and then Jensen sits up too, close enough that Jared feels the heat of his body, but not close enough for them to touch. "You what?" Jensen asks.

Jared sniffs, shrugs. "I get scared sometimes," he murmurs.

"Of what?"

"Of us, our marriage, failing," Jared says quietly. He looks down at his hands, fingers picking at the sheets.

"You think this marriage will fail." Jensen's tone is dangerously flat now, and it makes Jared's heart thud painfully.

"No," he chokes out. "But what if it _does_?"

"It won't," Jensen says firmly. "Jared, it _won't_."

Jared nods, but his bottom lip is quivering now and that feeling from last night is coming back, making his chest ache. "What if you're wrong? If we're both wrong?" he whispers. "Doesn't that thought terrify you?"

"No," Jensen says and then his hand is in Jared's hair, running through it soothingly. "There's nothing in the world I wouldn't do for you, sweetheart. I love you. I'll never _not_ love you; I don't think I'd be capable of that."

Jared drops his head and gives a small nod, exhaling quietly. "Yeah. Me, too," he admits. "But sometimes it's not about that, right? Sometimes it's everything else. And things get fucked up between two people, no matter how much they love each other."

"I won't let that happen, Jared," Jensen murmurs to him. "I would give up all of this, what I do, before it came to that. We'll leave all of this behind. Nothing can fuck us up if it's just us."

The words bring a wave of calmness over Jared, soothing him, and he nods again. "Okay," he says.

Jensen leans in, kisses his temple before he pulls away. He slides out of bed and Jared frowns. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting you one of your presents," Jensen says and gives him a small smile. "You'll see, baby."

Puzzled and wanting to demand Jensen should just come back to bed, because Jared doesn't really care about Christmas presents right now, he watches him leave. 

Jensen returns after a few moments, carrying a flat red box, roughly the size of a notebook, with a golden ribbon wrapped around it. He joins Jared on the bed again, settling with his back against the headboard and then pats the space next to him. 

Jared scoots back and Jensen places the present onto his lap. "Open it," he prompts.

Jared glances at him and then pulls at the bow, making it unravel and the ribbon fall away just enough for him to pry the lid of the box off. There's a manilla envelope inside and Jared pulls it out.

"What's this?" he asks.

"That's our secret, sweetheart, just yours and mine," Jensen murmurs, and gently places a kiss to his neck, then another.

The words don't really give Jared a clue about the gift, so he slides the envelope open, teeth digging into his bottom lip in concentration as he pulls the contents out. 

It's the portfolio of a property, a large ranch-style house that, according to the list of information Jared skims on the first page, sits on a rather large plot of land, and there's the deed for it as well, in both Jensen's and his name. There's an address with the name of a town Jared has never heard of.

"Jensen?" he asks softly.

"It's a couple of hours from here," Jensen says. "In the middle of absolutely nowhere. The closest neighbors are miles away."

Jared exhales and flips through the first couple pages of the portfolio. He skims words, lines, but his brain doesn't register any of what it says. 

"You bought us a house," he says. Jensen has money, a whole lot, and Jared knew he would probably buy Jared something extravagant. A house isn't outrageous, not for Jensen, but _this_ house is. Because it's not in the city, not in any city, and it doesn't look like the kind of house Jared grew up in, knows Jensen grew up in too, with insurmountably high walls and barred windows.

"Nobody knows about this," Jensen adds.

Jared stops skimming and looks at Jensen instead. "Nobody?"

Jensen smiles and shakes his head. "Not Chris, not even Danneel," he says. "Somewhere we can escape to, when we want to get away from all of this. For a weekend. For a week. Forever, if we ever feel the need to."

Jared snorts, the sound choked and his throat tight. "I got you a _watch_ ," he says. 

"Well, you just ruined the surprise," Jensen teases gently. "But I like watches."

Jared drops everything back into the box and turns to Jensen, throwing his arms around him and ending up halfway in his lap. 

"You'd do that," he says softly, and he _knows_ now. "You'd leave everything, everyone, without telling a single soul about where we're going and if we're coming back. Knowing that if you're gone too long, it could ruin everything you've built. Your business."

"Sweetheart, it doesn't matter. Not compared to you," Jensen says. 

Jared pulls back and grins, still a little watery. "I don't know how anyone is scared of you, Ackles. You're freaking _cheesy_."

"Only with you, _Mr. Ackles_."

"Good. Keep it that way," Jared says, and bites his lower lip. "Merry Christmas, Jensen."

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," Jensen replies and draws Jared up against his side. Jared settles against him, pulling the sheets up higher around their waists.

Outside it's still raining hard. 

It seems like a pretty fitting end to the year, the way this Christmas has progressed. The entire year has been a roller coaster for Jared. He can only hope that this, right here, will be an indication of what's to come next year.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays, everyone!


End file.
